Jekyll & Hyde

A cheesecake and a plain cookie are sitting side by side on the counter table, behind the display window in a small bakery shop. Cheesecake is whistling, but Cookie's lips are turned down in a frown.

"What's with the frown?" Cheesecake asked, concerned. "It's a beautiful day outside and we just got out of the oven, freshly baked and heated--you should be smiling like me!"

"Oh, hi," Cookie said, not showing enthusiasm. "yeah. You know. Nothing's up."

"Do you mind sharing? Far as I know, the shop's still empty so I don't think anyone will order us yet...Besides, that new guy Pretzel is basking all the attention nowadays."

Cheesecake's genuine humor eventually got into Cookie, who glanced sideways at her friend and smiled sadly. "I just heard that my Chef will make me a raisin cookie today."

Silence.

Cheesecake frowned, "So what? I don't understand. You're a plain cookie; anything can be your filling, including raisins. Is that why you look so gloomy today?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous," Cookie sighed, her mood lowering even more. "But I don't expect you to understand. You're so lucky you have a great Chef who completely understands what you need without you saying it out loud. The thing is, I hate raisins. And I just heard that my Chef will bake me into fruit-filled cookie next. I mean, doesn't he understand me at all?"

"Have you tried telling him about this?"

Cookie glared at her friend. "Are you kidding? If you meant whether I've tried telling him about this for the twentieth time, then the answer's no."

"Hmm. Then what filling would you like to be baked in?"

"I don't know, normal ones!" Cookie cried. "The ones that I like! Marshmallow cream! White chocolate! God, even the most usual, predictable, boring one: chocolate chip! I love colors, so why doesn't he put M&Ms inside me? I can even be blended with an ice cream when I'm in crumbles! The options are endless, but why does my Chef always pick the ones that disinterest me?"

"Maybe your Chef needs to get to know you better so he can learn what you like. For example, my Chef always makes sure I get two cherries on top instead of one. It's the way I like it." Cheesecake paused. "I'm sorry for your trouble. But why don't you just escape then? Run away, fall down from the table like other desserts do. Abandon your Chef if you can't take it anymore! There are a lot of great Chefs out there."

Cookie's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Aw, please don't start crying," Cheesecake's smile turned upside down, and she edged closer to her friend. A few grated cheese fell off her body. "So why can't you take a distance from your Chef?"

"It's guilt." Cookie sobbed. "I can just turn around and escape from the oven like everybody else. I can run away and find new Chefs like everybody else. But I can't abandon someone who made me who I am today; he made me from scratch. I know he gets up early in the morning to find the best flour and dough and sugar to make me like this. I can't just turn my back on someone like that, even though my affections for him are already almost gone. I feel for him, but on the other hand I know he will never deeply understand what i want, and more importantly. what I need. And the most irritating thing of all is that other desserts can't seem to understand--look at you, for example. You practically looked at me like I was crazy when I first told you the reason behind my mood today. It's not that I'm spoiled and gets offended easily, pissed off just because I'm about to be filled with raisins. But this has been going on for a long time, is it really that hard to be understood?

To want sweet cream instead of raisins? Marshmallows instead of nuts? What else do I have to do to show that I DON'T LIKE THIS and I WANT THAT instead? How long has my Chef been baking me? Years! Years and he still doesn't know that I like to be baked moist instead of dark."

"You know what your biggest mistake is?" Cheesecake asked softly. "You let yourself think that there is a great Chef out there who always fulfills your wishes, your desires, for you; even without you saying it out loud. Like a Chef who reads your mind. Perfect Chefs-Do you really believe they exist?"

Without any hesitation, Cookie said, "Absolutely."

Cheesecake smiled. "You probably thought everything is so perfect with me and my Chef, but it's not. Yes, he reads my mind and knows exactly what I want, but it doesn't mean we don't have any other problems. And he doesn't read my mind all the time either. Sometimes, I have to keep reminding him."

At that point, the display glass slide open and a slice of dark chocolate on a plate swooped in. Her almost-black exterior glittered under the harsh light. She's also known as the Devil's Cake. "Hee-hee!" she greeted, grinning mischievously. "I was sitting outside on the table, waiting for some dumbass to come buy me, but I heard your conversation very clearly." She turned her menacing eyes at Cookies. "And you, my friend, are incredibly stupid."

Cookie looked at her, stunned, and Cheesecake rolled her eyes.

Devil's Cake went on, "You don't stay with someone just because he's nice. When someone's nice, smile! Or in my case, don't." she chuckled at her own joke. "Anyway, why are you still here? Go run out from this dump! I'll help you escape."

"Cookie, don't listen to her." Cheesecake took a deep breath, "If you wanna stay, stay. Work it out. Give another go."

"Another go? I thought she was stupid, but you're incurable!" Devil's Cake cackled. "How many chances does a person deserve when it comes to your own happiness, let me ask you? Do you think we'll live that long, really? Do you think that fat guy sitting right there will not eagerly come to this display window and pick us for his after-dessert dessert? Don't you think, as a good friend," she mocked a sad face, "you should let Cookie find another Chef and more importantly, find her own happiness, finally?"

Cookie was torn, as her friends debated in front of her face. She looked down, sad. She remembered how caring and attentive her Chef has been, but also how completely clueless he was, despite all her warnings and advises.

She had never felt so confused.

"...But she said earlier that she wants to find her own Perfect Chef!" Cheesecake was saying, jostling Cookie out of her thoughts. At that, Devil's Cake closed her mouth and glared at Cookie. Cheesecake sighed and turned to her, too.

"A Perfect Chef?!" Devil's Cake yelled, then laughed harshly. "I have lived in this desserts world long enough to know that n such thing exists. You are way dumber than I thought."

"Devil, stop saying how dumb she is."

"Cheesecake, mind your own cheese-topped head and bug off," Devil's Cake impersonated the cheese's tone mockingly.

"You two, shut up." Cookie cut them off, taking them both by surprise. She glanced left and right. "Help me get up there; I see an opening."

Without saying anything, Cheesecake hoisted the Cookie on its head. Cookie climbed up out of the display window carefully, scared she will dissolve into crumbles. After struggling for a few minutes, Cheesecake asked quietly, "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

Cookie closed her eyes, prayed with her heart pounding heavily, and took a jump. The highest jump she might ever take in her life. When she opened her eyes, she was landing safely on the marble counter table.

"You made it!" Devil's Cake did a victory dance. "You're not so stupid after all!"

Cookie ignored her and struggled to move so she was face-to-face with Cheesecake through a window glass. "Are you sure...?" Cheesecake repeated.

"I've been stuck in that window forever, being something I know I'm not," Cookie said. "I don't know if I will ever work for a Perfect Chef or will I ever find him. But," she smiled, fr the first time that day. "I'm free."

As other desserts watched longingly from inside the glass, Cookie winked at Cheesecake and turned around, relieved to see she was still in one piece. She didn't know where she was going next. She even had no idea how she was gonna go through the front door of the bakery. But the most important thing was, she made the jump.


And the feeling was surprisingly, overwhelmingly liberating.